"Do you think that he will get away?" she asked eagerly.
"You mean the man who shot Major Delahaye?"
"Yes."
"I think that it is very likely. He has a good start, and I expect that he had made his arrangements."
"I hope he does," she murmured passionately. "I wish that I could help him."
"You have no idea who he was?" I asked. "I do not believe that Grooten was his real name."
She shook her head.
"I have never seen him before in my life," she said. "If I did know I should not tell anyone."
The doctor came at last. In reality it was barely five minutes since he had been sent for, but time dragged itself along slowly in that little room. Directly afterwards Huber, the manager, returned, followed by a sergeant of the police. We all waited for the doctor's examination. I fetched a chair for the child, and she thanked me with a wan little smile. Always she sat with her back to the sofa. There was something terribly suggestive in her utter lack of sympathy with the wounded man.
The doctor finished his examination at last. He came towards us.